


...You will Be Alright

by dxndelixns



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Tragedy, ChanBaek Child, Child Death, Child Loss, Child's Perspective, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Hurt, Jongin is the Child, M/M, Miscarriage, Mpreg, Non-Linear Narrative, Storytelling, mpreg baekhyun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-12 08:14:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19128097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dxndelixns/pseuds/dxndelixns
Summary: Hello there! I'm Jongin. This is my story.written for Rock A Bye FestRB073





	...You will Be Alright

**Author's Note:**

> ### Mod Notes
> 
> This work is written for the 2019 Rock A Bye Fic Fest: Round 1. We hope you enjoy! Make sure to give our writers all the love that they deserve~ Authors will be revealed on June 25!  
>  **Prompt:** RB073  
>  **Word count:** 5,243  
>  **Rating:** NC-17  
>  **Pairing:** ChanBaek  
>  **Characters:** Park Chanyeol, Byun Baekhyun, Jongin  
>  **Side pairing/s:** N/A  
>  **Warning/s: Themes of child loss, miscarriage, child death, MPreg; a whole lot of angst.**
> 
> ### Author's Notes
> 
> Are you ready? Take a deep breath, and let's start at the beginning.

Hiya there!

You hear me, right? At least I think you do...I'm not sure I'm even supposed to be here. I'm not even sure why I'm here but it's alright; when He finally calls for me to accompany him I think I'm going to go back and live with Dad anyway. He did say I could stay a little longer, and that's exactly what I'm doing even though Dad's been calling for me a few times now. He'll understand. I'm Jongin, by the way, and it's nice to meet you! I also go by Nini so you can call me that.

Dad told me that I'm a special one, and I think you are too because you're here— you're the first since I came! It's been a little lonely, you know, staying here without anyone. Dad's been visiting regularly but he's pretty busy most days and I don't really mind being left alone most of the time but it becomes pretty boring once in a while and I wouldn't mind a little conversation. So there's that. Little ones. That's what he calls us. His little ones.

I don’t know where Papa and Pops got the name Jongin; I think it was one of their friend’s names? I’m not entirely sure. Look— there's Papa and Pops! I don't think I've introduced them yet. The tall one's my Papa Chanyeol. He's real cute with his big ears. His eyes are slightly mismatched which is cute, too. Pops says that’s one of the things that he loves about Papa. I think the same, too. He has lots of tattoos, and he’s a big guy as you can see, but the truth is that he’s a real softie. He would always talk to me, sometimes when Pops is asleep. He always says that he would take care of Pops and me and he has never broken that promise.

Oh, oh, that smaller man next to my Papa? That’s Pops Baekhyun. Pops is really soft and cute and cuddly, and that’s from my own experience. Papa said his hands are beautiful, and he looks really cute especially when he’s smiling. He even described it to me— it was like the letter ‘s’ in Korean, Papa said. He has a small mole near his lips that Papa loves loves loves to kiss, and when he does Pops lets out the softest sigh. Papa always holds Pops’s hands, because he said it was one of the first things that he liked about Pops. Pops always takes care of me and Papa. He would cook meals for us and Papa would always say “Compliments to the chef” and then Pops would blush and say “The chef says a kiss would be enough compensation” and then Papa would kiss Pops and the two of them would laugh. Pops and Papa always told me that I was special because I am made of their love and no one could replace that even if they wanted to. Pops would always sing to me songs, too. Pops has a lovely voice, very sweet to the ears. I think if Pops were a singer he’d be a great one. Papa, on the other hand, has a deep, slightly rough voice that is actually soothing when I think about it. When he talks I feel myself slowly being lulled to sleep.

They are the cutest especially on days when Papa doesn’t have work. Since Pops has always been slightly sickly, he was ordered by the doctor to take care of himself, especially when he’s expecting— that would be me! They were so happy that time; Pops cried while Papa hugged him tightly. At least that’s what Papa said. Pops quit his job because he really really really wanted to focus on taking care of himself. Instead he started his own business and now his brand is really getting popular. Papa would always tell me “Take care of your Pops for me, okay?” and I would always take extra care not to hurt Pops in any way possible, if I can help it. Sometimes I still do, though unintentionally. Pops would never be mad at me, just tell me to please let him do stuff, and I do follow him for the most part. I just want to be with them, is all.

See that? That painting on top of the shelf? Pops made that for me a few months back. He really wanted some strawberries that time, and called Papa.

He said, “Yeol, hon, can you buy me some strawberries?”

I didn’t hear the other line, but Pops was sad when he said “Oh it’s fine, then, just come home now so I can kiss you.” That’s how cheesy sweet they are.

Pops told me he didn’t want Papa going out of his way to buy him some strawberries but that he’d really like some. Then, he got an idea to paint one. He called this ‘random pregnancy thoughts’ that he had. So he got a canvas from Papa’s studio— oh, yeah, Papa paints in his spare time but Pops and I are not allowed inside his studio when he does because of the smell— and painted himself a portrait of a strawberry. Isn’t it cute? When Papa saw that, he was immediately reminded of Pops. I guess now that I imagine Pops with red hair he does look a lot like a strawberry…

Anyway, so that night, while Pops and I are waiting for Papa to arrive, Pops told me all about the story of how they first met.

==ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ==

Chanyeol chuckles lightly as he takes down the strawberry painting that Baekhyun did while he was pregnant. His partner, meanwhile, busied himself with taking down the banners adorning the wall above the crib.

“Look, remember this?” He tries for casual conversation. Baekhyun looks at the painting, then at his partner with a soft smile.

“Yeah, I was craving for some strawberries that time, even though it wasn’t strawberry season.” Baekhyun nods and says, his delicate fingers handling the banner on his hands. He avoids eye contact with Chanyeol, afraid that he would spiral down again, and takes a deep breath. “I was really happy.” He whispers. “I really was.”

Chanyeol hears that, and sighs. “I was, too.”

==ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ==

So, there’s this chair inside the room — _my_ room, I guess— that Pops just _loves_ to sit on. It’s gray and it’s soft and there’s a light blue pillow for the back, and it has Pops’s smell all over it. Papa said so when he sat there. Like, literally almost every day Pops would get in, take a seat, and just tell me stories about him and Papa. Sometimes he would do his work inside my room, sometimes in the living room, but mostly in my room. Pops ran an online fashion business and blog and nowadays he would always tell me that he wrote about what he was feeling while I was inside of him, which made me real curious to see what he wrote. Pops would also place things on top of his tummy; sometimes while watching a movie he would place his bowl of popcorn and in between bites would ask me if it was okay, and that he’s sorry, he just wanted to try it is all. I always let him feel that it’s fine, Pops, enjoy your popcorn and movie. Pops would always put his hand on his tummy absentmindedly, where I was, and always stroke it. I could almost feel his delicate hands and that makes me really happy.

Oh, yeah, I was about to tell you how they met. Right.

So Pops said that they met in university, which I think is some kind of school? Pops would show me some pictures; they were always together but with friends. Pops would tell me their names regularly because he said that they’re my godfathers and godmothers: I don’t really know much about that except that they would always visit me so I got to know their names, and their voices. Anyway, so Pops told me that the first day of class, Papa and him were late for the same class so they ended up sitting together at the back of the classroom. Papa forgot his pen and turned to Pops to ask if he could borrow one, but Pops said that he had only one pen and there was no one else in their row so he just told Papa that he could borrow his notes, if he liked.

Papa ended up copying Pops’s notes and to this day they would always laugh whenever Papa would pick up his pen and say, “If not for you, there’d never be an us.”

Wait, look: that’s the chair right there! See, Pops loves it so much he’s sitting down on it.

Anyway, so Papa thought that was the end of it, but then he added Pops on Twitter and saw that he posted videos, so he watched every single one of them, and his words were that “by the end of it, I knew I was in love.”

Papa is such a sap for Pops, seriously.

So Papa became a fan, then as time went on he became a friend, then later his lover, partner, and husband. Pops would always tell me that Papa promised that he would take care of him, of us, and that when Papa makes a promise, he keeps it forever. Papa would always tell me that Pops told him at their wedding that he was going to love Papa forever and that he would take care of me because I’m their angel. I’m their miracle.

Look— see, even Papa likes that chair! He’s sitting beside Pops. They look a little tired, though, I’m kind of worried for them.

Oh, oh— I forgot to tell you, Papa went home with fresh strawberries that night. And strawberry ice cream. And strawberry milk. And Pops was so happy and I was so happy that I started kicking Pops while he hugged Papa. Papa noticed it first and I kicked again for him, for good measure. He looked so happy and was looking at Pops with teary eyes while Pops held Papa’s hands that were on his tummy.

See there? Papa bought that chest of drawers from the mall one day and Pops had a good laugh with it because it was the wrong color for the room since the room was white and he brought in a bright, bright yellow one. They decided that my room color then be yellow and white and black, and it was pretty.

==ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ==

Baekhyun sits down on the only chair in the room, suddenly feeling exhausted. They have been doing this since the morning, and he had fought off the exhaustion since they started. It was nearing lunch time, anyway, and the sunlight has been flowing in the room all the while. He wasn’t in the mood to eat something but he’s sure Chanyeol is. He watches as Chanyeol opens up drawers from the chest that he bought some months ago, which Baekhyun filled with baby clothes and accessories just a month before. Chanyeol takes one look at it then closes his eyes, finding Baekhyun watching him intently.

“Do you want to go eat something?” Chanyeol asks, seeing Baekhyun’s face. He looked so worn out, so tired and deflated, but they promised themselves that at the end of today they’re going to finish what they had started, and Chanyeol never breaks his promises. He still has to take care of Baekhyun, though, so his husband is his first priority.

“N-no, do you? Let me get you something. Pizza? Burger?” Baekhyun offers, taking his phone out.

Chanyeol nods in assent and approaches the chair where Baekhyun is, sitting on the armrest and looking at the room they were currently in. “Sweet and sour pork would also be great, love.”

Baekhyun looks at his husband. The one person he knew would understand if he cried right now, somewhat randomly. “ _Jajjangmyeon_?” He asks again, fighting back the tears that threatened to overflow. He focuses on his phone, finding a good place for them to order food. He feels a slight weight on his side and relaxes as his husband hugs him.

“That would be perfect.” Chanyeol says, draping his arms around his husband while looking at what they had accomplished so far.

Baekhyun taps on his phone impatiently as the website loads, taking deep breaths and never lifting his head. It would break him, again, to see and realize what they were doing. Not now, he thinks. I have to order food for my husband first.

To other people it might not seem like a lot; some banners and pictures and paintings strewn to the side, but to the two of them it seems like a gigantic task to move everything.

Everything that they readied for something they had hoped for.

==ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ==

Pops loved the way that the light traveled in the room. He said so himself one day, while we were there. He described it as though the light was looking for a place to shine, and it chose my bedroom of all places. Papa decided that to match the wall to the drawers he had to paint the wall in yellow, and it looked lovely in the light, said Pops. It was happy and yellow and positive and I could hear Pop sighing in contentment, and I soon fell asleep with his hand just hovering over me, on his tummy.

Papa would always tell me that I should always be healthy and happy, and Pops never fails to take his vitamins and drink his milk, and sometimes we would just sit on his favorite chair and listen to some tunes over the radio. On days when Pops feels extra well, we would go out and look for some baby clothes: you know, so that once I come out they could dress me up. Pops said that it was one of the things that he was looking forward to when I finally come. Papa said one night while they were talking to me that Pops was a fashion icon and I think I could not agree more.

On those days, Pops and Papa would hold hands, just like what they usually do, and go to different baby stores and buy baby products for me. They would ask me sometimes, and I would kick if I liked a certain bottle or a certain garment. Pops would laugh and lead Papa’s hand to his stomach, because I just kicked and they just can’t get enough of it.

Pops is holding one of my favorites: it’s a teeny tiny bear costume that they got because I kicked Pops so hard he had to stop in the middle of the store and take a deep breath. That’s how bad I wanted that. Papa stroked Pops’s back lovingly and they took it immediately to the counter to pay. I love it because Papa said that it looks fuzzy and soft, and Pops said that he would like to have a theme for me. Seeing as I usually kick when they hold up bear products, they went on to buy bear themed stuff and I was really really happy that day.

Papa and Pops bought this baby monitor, you know, those ones who let their parents hear when the baby is crying— yeah, they bought me a bear shaped one! It was real cute especially because when Papa first saw it he immediately called Pops, and they spent almost half the day in the store just looking at it because it was way out of Pops’s budget. Then Papa went back the next day, without Pops, bought the bear baby monitor, and surprised Pops with it at home together with fresh strawberries he bought from the grocery. I don’t think I saw Pops that surprised as when Papa pulled out the baby monitor. They placed it in the crib, together with Teddy— wait, I don’t think I told you about Teddy just yet.

Papa came home one evening and surprised Pops with a giant stuffed teddy bear. I don’t know where Papa put it, though, but I was really happy and Pops was laughing as he hugged the bear. Papa said that he also bought me one, which surprised Pops because he thought that the big bear was for me. So Papa took out a smaller one and placed it on my crib and they both looked at it. Pops told me that I have a new friend waiting for me when I come and I was really excited that I kicked him again, although this time slightly weaker.

I felt Pops’s concern for me and the truth is that at that time I was not feeling that well. That’s not the first time I felt like I was not... with Pops, if you know what I mean. I mean, I always feel that they’re _there,_ but there’s something about me and Pops’s connection that seems off the past few days. Pops stroked his tummy and asked me if I was okay, and I kicked, stronger this time, because he had to know that I was.

So there’s my little friend— I call him Teddy, and Pops always let me see Teddy. He would tell me that Teddy is brown and soft, and will protect me from harm when I’m out, when Papa and him are sleeping. Papa would often find me and Pops and Teddy on the chair when he comes home from work, and smile. I would always hear his soft yet deep voice when approaching Papa, afraid of startling him.

Papa’s holding Teddy again, see? He’s really cu—

Why is Pops crying? Oh no, please don’t…P-Pops, d-don't... don’t cry...

==ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ==

Baekhyun wordlessly approaches the cabinet and starts opening drawers, smiling as he takes out bundles of clothes that were neatly folded and putting them delicately on boxes. His eyes well but he tries not to show it, especially when his partner’s just beside him, opening the other drawers and taking out baby bottles and soft cloths and small blankets, handling them with the utmost care. He opens another drawer, full of onesies, and stumbles upon the bear onesie that they bought because their child kicked so hard it made Baekhyun breathless for a second.

One tear dropped on the small article of clothing, then another.

 **“** Baekhyun-ah, I’m— **”** Chanyeol says as he holds the teddy bear he brought for Baekhyun and their child last time. The bigger teddy bear is in their room, which Baekhyun hugs nightly, wishing it good night. He was about to start dismantling the crib that they bought and assembled, remembering all while laughing uncontrollably because Chanyeol cannot keep his temper in check while looking for a missing screw, while Baekhyun could not stop giggling for the life of him as he watched. His sentence stops when he hears sniffling beside him, and sees Baekhyun crying as he hugs the brown onesie near to his heart. He puts down the teddy bear back on the crib and strokes the back of his husband, long, soothing strokes.

“I’m so sorry, Chanyeol.” Baekhyun says in between tears. “I fucked everything up. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry.” Chanyeol embraces his husband for what could be the fifteenth time this day. “There was nothing we could have done.”

“If I...” Baekhyun began, then a fresh wave of tears erupted that he could only cry for some minutes. “If I had listened... If only I had taken care of myself better...”

“Hush. Jongin would not like you crying like that.”

At the sound of their child’s name, the name they both decided on, Baekhyun lets himself be lost within Chanyeol’s embrace, with tears of regret and sadness from the both of them the only things in the room that can be heard.

==ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ==

O-Oh, I’m sorry, I just… I hope Pops stops crying. It breaks my heart to see him cry.

I’ll continue telling my story, okay? I hope that’s okay…

I don’t like it when Pops is crying, but sometimes he can’t help it when his hormones flare up so he tells me in advance that he does, so when he shouts or gets angry in a snap, I know that it’s just because of something else happening within his body that he cannot control. Papa usually is the hot-tempered one but on days that Pops bursts out, Papa would always be the one doing the temper check and letting him be. He knows, and that’s part of what makes them really cute and happy together:

Usually Pops cries without reason: because of a sad movie, or a sad song, or when he can’t reach the plates on top of the pantry cabinet. When that happens I try not to kick him or do something that will hurt him. Sometimes, Papa would come home earlier than usual and he and Pops would talk things out, knowing that it’s almost always hormones, and would end up eating ice cream or whatever it is that Pops was craving at the moment. The one thing that Papa would always bring home is strawberries, because after the day that he called Pops for some strawberries, he would ask Papa very sweetly to buy him some. Papa would always say yes, because you can’t really say no to a pregnant person, and then he would just go by the store, buy something strawberry flavored, and go home.

That day, Papa just came home from work with this really big package, and Pops was surprised but still crying over how he could not get the plates from the topmost cabinet. Papa was so worried about Pops that he immediately opened the big package and out came plastics filled with several pieces of wood, screws and all that stuff.

“What’s this?” Pops asked.

“Let’s build our baby a crib.” Papa said, his voice gentle and soft as not to scare Pops. The last few days, Pops had been telling Papa how his loud and deep voice could scare me, but in reality it just scared Pops, so Papa had been talking softly. I don’t mind it, but I still miss Papa’s loud and booming voice.

“Are you sure about this?” Pops asked again and again because he knew that Papa had zero patience and tolerance for anything that might go wrong in this. Papa just nodded, so they camped out in my room and started building my crib.

It was a beautiful pale yellow and Papa said he bought it thinking of me. Papa started to take everything out of their plastics, putting the manual near Pops because he would be the one in charge of telling Papa what to put next to each other. Papa insisted that Pops sit down and let him do the work but Pops did not like that one bit so he told Papa that either he’s doing the assembly with him or he would sleep and let Papa do all the work. Since Papa did not want that he be left alone, he let Pops help him, mostly with the basic stuff like passing him the pieces that were needed, or giving him the screwdriver or things like that.

Papa started the assembly but then they already ran into a bit of trouble when Papa was not able to figure out where the corner pieces should go, and Pops had a lovely time laughing it out with Papa. He was already in stitches because Papa’s face contorted in this funny way while putting the pieces together. All the while, Papa was talking to me regarding my crib, saying that everything in the room matched with the yellow (and bear!) theme they had been going for, and that he saw some pillow cases that maybe I’d like. Pops suggested they go there tomorrow to get some, and Papa agreed immediately.

It was after just a few minutes that Papa lost all of his cool when he could not, for the life of him, find that one screw that was supposed to hold one of the end posts together. Pops was giggling because he _knew_ this was going to happen while Papa was working on making this crib. Papa was not happy, though, but he knew better than to snap at Pops because he knew that it would stress him out.

They eventually finished the crib after some drinks and, in Pop’s case, eating and drinking strawberries. Pops smiled as they finished the crib, finally, and Papa pulled another thing from his bag: a rattle.

“Aww, Yeol.” Pops said. He was crying, again, and Papa smiled and showed it to me and I kicked Pops once more because a bear! rattle! I can’t wait!

==ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ==

"Chanyeol..." Baekhyun calls out, his voice cracking as tears gather on the edge of his eyes. He just found a little brown baby rattle, the shape of a bear, strewn to the side, as if wanting to be hidden from plain sight. The taller of the two sighs and drops the mobile he was dismantling. If hearts could break audibly, you could hear theirs from a distance.

"I know, Baek. I know."

The rattle makes its way into a box where it falls inside rather noisily. They both look at it for a moment, wanting not to pack even just one thing, for memories, but decided against it. Baekhyun could not control his tears when he holds the baby monitor in his hands, holding on to it for a moment longer, thinking about how entirely different it would have been to hear a child’s laugh, _their_ child’s laughter, or his tears, or how his presence could have changed the situation they were in right now. It would be chaos, but at least it would have been a beautiful one. Not like this, where tears and regrets remained.

Chanyeol tries to pry the baby monitor from Baekhyun to put it in the box, but he was lost yet again on his what ifs.

“What if he was here now? He would have been so happy to see his room.”

“Baekhyun…”

“Fuck, Chanyeol. Curse me. Hate me. I just lost _our_ baby and yet…” Baekhyun chokes with tears he wants to shed. “Fuck. Stop being so kind.”

“Then what should I do?” Chanyeol lashes out, tired of hearing Baekhyun blame himself. “Blame you? I don’t. Curse you? I wouldn’t. Because at the end of the day _we_ lost our baby. Not just me. Not just you. So don’t think that I’m not hurting here because I am. We lost our child, Baekhyun, _we_ lost him. I’m fucking trying here. I really am.” Chanyeol’s knees buckles, the cold truth washing over him yet again: there is no baby coming. There might never be one. That was why they had to fix the nursery in the first place— keeping it would just bring their hopes up again, and again, but there was no assurance that Baekhyun could bear a child again. They decided to pack up the nursery because they were tired of seeing a closed door full of their what was supposed to be. It was time to face the truth that there might not be a child who can use the room. Reality set in for the both of them, which led to this day.

“I— I’m sorry…” For the first time since the day their doctor confirmed their worst nightmare, Baekhyun sees his husband crumble in front of him, and everything goes tumbling down for him yet again as they sit there, the room disgustingly positive and happy and unaware. The smaller wraps his arms around his husband, rocking the two of them back and forth in a comforting motion, and for a moment they let all their guards down and let their emotions get the best of themselves.

After they both apologized to one another, they go back to packing the remaining things they can. The baby monitor is now back in its box above the cabinet, the boxes of baby clothes neatly stacked inside.

The sky got dark, and the room slowly fills with moonlight. They both stand up and open the lights. The room is bare, now, with the crib dismantled and the drawers finally empty. The only big thing in the room is the chair, and after they move it…everything is finally done.

==ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ==

Am I boring you yet?

Bear with me; my story’s almost over anyway.

Remember when I told you that I don’t feel like Pops and me are… _connected_? The past few days before I came here, I felt like Pops and Papa’s voices have been slightly muted. I don’t see or feel them too much and I’m super afraid of hurting Pops that I don’t kick around too much anymore.

The day before I came here Pops complained that something in him was hurting, which alarmed me because I wasn’t really moving much at that time. Papa said that they should go to the hospital, and all the while Pops talked to me and asked me what was wrong.

I don’t know, Pops.

All I know is that one minute I was with Papa and Pops, them singing and me hearing Pops’s beautiful voice, and the next moment I was like… pulled from him. Away from them, away from the parents that I loved and who loved me. I just saw them for the first time here, from above, while Papa and Pops cried. The doctor said I had problems. He said that it was just weak, our connection, and that he was sorry this ever happened to them. He assured Papa and Pops that they did nothing wrong, and that it was unfortunate but that they could try again if they wanted to.

Papa lost his self-control that time and punched the doctor’s desk, demanding what went wrong, what did they do wrong, what is going to happen to them, and I could only watch as they left the doctor’s office and went home.

That’s when Dad came and told me that sometimes, things happen for a reason. For me, it was because they weren’t ready, yet. That Dad needed me for something better and more worthy.

I miss Papa and Pops terribly…

I guess it’s time for us to go, now. Dad’s calling us. I should say goodbye, though.

Bye, Papa and Pops. See you around! I love you.

==ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ==

They push the chair to the side, exhaustion getting the best of them. They look at what was supposed to be their nursery, the room of their child.

They had all sorts of plans for him but everything came crashing down when the doctor told them that the child… the child did not make it. All their hopes crashed and burned, the nursery was left untouched for a few days because no one can bear seeing the sight of what should have been. What could have been.

Today, as they stand side by side outside the nursery, Baekhyun in tears and Chanyeol hugging his dear husband, they wished nothing more than for the both of them to stay strong, and move on. There is life after, and they intend to live it out the best that they can.

Finally, the nursery room door closes.

**Author's Note:**

> I know this was a lot to take in, so let me start off by saying thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read this. 
> 
> For those who wanted to know the exact prompt, here it is:  
>  _"Chanyeol and Baekhyun putting their bought nursery items away after a miscarriage, through the eyes of the unborn child."_
> 
> I would also like to say sorry to anyone if this has offended them in some way, shape or form— feel free to reach out and I would be glad to revise. 
> 
> This was one of the hardest pieces I've written so far, especially when the topic breaks my heart into shards. I don't have any experience dealing with it first-hand but the journey that mothers go through to care and nurture for their child while inside of them only for the child to not survive is so, so heartbreaking. I could only assume how heartbroken women who went through this have felt, so let's give them the love and support that they need and deserve.
> 
> Main inspiration is Ed Sheeran's "Small Bump", which you could listen to [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A_af256mnTE). ̶Y̶o̶u̶ ̶c̶o̶u̶l̶d̶ ̶o̶p̶e̶n̶ ̶t̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶s̶t̶o̶r̶y̶ ̶u̶p̶ ̶i̶n̶ ̶a̶ ̶n̶e̶w̶ ̶t̶a̶b̶ ̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶j̶u̶s̶t̶ ̶l̶e̶t̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶s̶o̶n̶g̶ ̶p̶l̶a̶y̶ ̶i̶n̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶b̶a̶c̶k̶g̶r̶o̶u̶n̶d̶ ̶w̶h̶i̶l̶e̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ ̶r̶e̶a̶d̶ ̶i̶t̶.̶
> 
> Again, thank you for reading this work. Comments and kudos are loved~


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